


A Chance Meeting

by BloodLily16



Series: Cygate Skyrim AU [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elf, Alternate Universe - Human, Bosmer/Wood Elf!Tailgate, Dragonborn DLC, Dragonborn!Tailgate, Dunmer/Dark Elf!Cyclonus, Mercenary Cyclonus, Pre-Relationship, Skyrim AU, Tailgate is really high leveled by this point probably i think, This is technically Cygate except they haven't gotten to know each other yet, romance happens later i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 21:24:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17732927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodLily16/pseuds/BloodLily16
Summary: This time Tailgate really did look a little guilty, and Cyclonus was close to deciding that the jewelry was cursed. That was really the only reasonable explanation for why an adventurer could reasonably decide to pawn off this much fine jewelry on--“I really just want to get rid of it,” admitted Tailgate.“Really.” Cyclonus arched an eyebrow at Tailgate.“I mean, I didn’t do anything illegal for it!” Tailgate held her hands up defensively. “It’s just that I’m carrying too much!”Cyclonus goes out to clear out a bandit camp, only to find that an Outlander has beaten her to it.





	A Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of this art, which I drew: https://bloodysart.tumblr.com/post/182698442454/ive-been-reading-a-lot-of-transformers-fic-and
> 
> This also follows my headcanons that the Dragonborn starts to take on more dragon-like characteristics as they consume more souls.

Cyclonus’s life was honestly a little boring, if she thought about it too long. But she usually didn’t, so she had no issues with it. Every morning she woke up, paid Geldis Sadri for the continued use of her room in the inn, and bought breakfast from him. If she felt like it, she’d ask him about rumors, so that she might be able to clear out a bandit camp and make some money that way. How she earned her money was usually the only variety in her routine. On days where there were no reports of bandit camps, Cyclonus would help out at a farm or cut firewood. It made little difference to her. 

Until that damn Bosmer came into town. 

Cyclonus had heard about the outlander that had come into town, of course. But she didn’t know if she believed any of the rumors. Apparently this Wood Elf had shown up in town asking about someone named Miraak, who had sent soldiers after her. Details were vague as to why, but they ranged from the plausible (the Outlander’s family was in a feud with Miraak) to the insane (the Outlander was actually a bastard descendant of the Septims and Miraak wanted to prevent a bosmer from having a claim to the throne). 

The Bosmer was also apparently wearing armor made out of Dragonbone, which Cyclonus was hard-pressed to believe even if anyone who’d seen the Outlander corroborated the claims. 

And then she met the Outlander. 

It had started when Cyclonus left to clear out a bandit den north of that abandoned shack that was almost certainly a black market trading post. It was a hard trek up the mountain in her steel armor, which wasn’t helped by the fact that one of the fasteners holding her breastplate shut was starting to break. She’d have to pay Mallory to fix it, which was less than ideal. 

Recently, there had been less than usual bandits on the island, and so she had to travel farther than she liked to in order to find any with enough gold to justify going after them. At this rate, she might as well clear out a barrow and risk whatever damned Nord bullcrap they contained. 

But then she arrived at the camp in the middle of the Outlander cutting through bandits like so many sheets of cheap cloth. 

By the time Cyclonus had drawn her sword, the Outlander had neatly slashed the throat of the last bandit and was pulling out her lockpicking gear to loot the camp. Cyclonus did nothing but stare as the Outlander easily picked the lock and started stuffing her pockets with coin purses. Finally, unsure what else to do, she cleared her throat. 

The Outlander spun around, hands reaching for her… Divines, were those  _ Daedric daggers _ ? Who the hell was this? But then the Outlander stopped.

“Hello?” she asked, drawing herself up to her laughably short height. She was easily a head shorter than Cyclonus, and the boots she was wearing probably added to her height, which would make her short, even by Bosmer standards. And she had white hair, with a texture that was relatively common among some humans and some elves, but never in that pure white color. In addition, her eyes were strange, and she had strange white spots on her face that reminded her of  _ something _ . 

“Hello,” said Cyclonus. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Tailgate!” The Outlander sheathed her weapons and offered a handshake, a very human greeting. “What’s yours?”

“Cyclonus.” Cyclonus hesitantly reached out and shook Tailgate’s hand. Now that she looked closer, she saw that those spots of paint were oddly hard and flaky, like a laquer rather than paint. Curiouser and curiouser. 

“What are you doing here?” asked Tailgate. 

“I was planning on killing these bandits,” said Cyclonus, “but you appear to have beaten me to it.” 

“Oh.” Tailgate looked around at the bandits. “Are you supposed to get paid for it?”

“I do occasionally,” said Cyclonus. “But I’m usually paid via selling what I find.”

Tailgate actually looked a little guilty about that, which was cute considering that she’d just killed six bandits singlehandedly while covered in literal dragon bone armor. Who the hell had made that, anyway?

“Here.” Tailgate dug through her bag and pockets, and produced three circlets and a handful of rings and necklaces. She handed them to Cyclonus. Cyclonus briefly shuffled through them. They weren’t cheap items. The rings were all set with stones, and one of the circlets was made of jade. A few of the rings were enchanted. All together, it would bring over a thousand septims when sold. 

Cyclonus slowly looked up at Tailgate, who was packing away the rest of the items. “Are you insane?”

“No,” said Tailgate. 

“You’re really giving these to me?” All said and done, the value of the loot from the bandit camp would bring in a few hundred septims, less than half of what the jewelry would bring. 

“Yeah, of course,” said Tailgate. “I was going to sell them anyway.” 

“That’s exactly why you should keep it!” said Cyclonus. “What possible reason would you have for giving me three times what I could have gotten from this camp because you feel  _ guilty _ ?”

This time Tailgate really did look a little guilty, and Cyclonus was close to deciding that the jewelry was cursed. That was really the only reasonable explanation for why an adventurer could reasonably decide to pawn off this much fine jewelry on--

“I really just want to get rid of it,” admitted Tailgate. 

“Really.” Cyclonus arched an eyebrow at Tailgate. 

“I mean, I didn’t do anything illegal for it!” Tailgate held her hands up defensively. “It’s just that I’m carrying too much!” 

This gave Cyclonus pause. “Carrying too much?”

“I live in Whiterun,” said Tailgate. “And I don’t have a home here or any safe place to store this stuff, so I carry it with me.” 

“Why not sell it?” asked Cyclonus. “Fethis Alor would buy it from you.” 

“Uh, about that,” said Tailgate. “He’s actually not buying anything from me for a few days.” 

Cyclonus stared at her. “What?”

“I  _ might’ve _ sold him a lot of jewelry and gems and not bought much of anything,” said Tailgate. “And he  _ might’ve _ gotten mad at me and told me that I can’t sell him anything for the next few days while he replenishes his coffers for the fifth time in three weeks.”

“So.” Cyclonus inhaled and exhaled. “You’re telling me that you’re giving me treasure that you don’t want because you don’t need the extra weight, because your house is far away, and because the merchant has bought enough valuables off of you to nearly send him into the red?”

Tailgate nodded. 

Cyclonus was almost tempted to laugh. 

“If you don’t want to just take it,” said Tailgate, “then maybe you and I could work out an agreement?”

“Like what?” asked Cyclonus. 

“You could come with me and help me out,” said Tailgate. “Help me fight off trolls and stuff. I can pay you pretty well.” 

Cyclonus looked down at the jewelry, and then at tailgate, It sounded almost ridiculous, except that it actually sounded like a good idea. A larger group could take on larger targets, and Tailgate was obviously a skilled fighter. Not to mention, perhaps Cyclonus could find out who’d managed to make her that armor. 

“Fine.” Cyclonus nodded. “I accept.” 

“Great!” Tailgate hugged her, despite the bulky armor. “It’s good to have you!”

Cyclonus stiffened at the touch, and then sighed. 

This should prove interesting. 


End file.
